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Hate Week 2012: The Acts of the Dawgpostles

Let's get one thing straight: I hate Florida. It's not just a simple dislike, a harmonious discord, or even a deep, latent enmity. I hate Florida with the fire of a thousand suns being fueled by the fire of an additional thousand suns. In a world where my choices were to cheer for Florida or go blind, I'd start learning Braille. Most of the time, I am (relatively) civil while expressing this intense Gator hatred. For one week a year, though, I allow my hate to come out of the closet and be displayed in its raw, naked form. This is that week.

And thus did St. Frank of Sinkwich lay waste to the Bruins of Los Angeles.
And thus did St. Frank of Sinkwich lay waste to the Bruins of Los Angeles.
UGA Sports Communications. Used with permission.

The former account I made, O Dawg Nation, of all that T. Kyle King began both to do and teach, until the day in which he was taken up to the ESPN network, after he through the UNITE Spirit had given commandments to the Dawgpostles whom he had chosen, to whom he also presented himself victorious after his beating down many utterly fallible bloggers, being seen by them during television appearances and speaking of the things pertaining to the Bulldog Nation.

When the Day of Drunktecost had fully come, they were all with one accord in one place in the area surrounding Everbank Field. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled the whole tailgating area where they were sitting. Then there appeared to them divided pigments, as of the colors red and black, and one sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the spirit of the Bulldog Nation and began to speak thereof, as the spirit gave them utterance.

Vineyarddawg, being moved by the spirit, spake and said, "Remember that game in 1942, when Georgia beat Florida 75-0 behind the backfield of Sinkwich, Trippi, and MacGillicuddy? Well, my parents weren't even alive on that day, but god, I loved it. I think I'll predict a repeat of that glorious performance every single year."

Mr. Sanchez was then moved, and said, "The good ol' 1966 game is probably the best ever for me. I just can't get enough of having Steve Spurrier's face rubbed in the dirt by a fledgling group of Junkyard Dawgs. It brings a big ol' smile to my face every time I think about it."

Chuckdawg then spake unto Ludakit's digital recorder, saying, "Behold, for I hold in my hand an apple! And that sounds a lot like the name "Appleby!" And Richard Appleby was a Damn Good Dawg who completed the most unlikely of halfback passes to Gene Washington to beat the Gators in 1975! EIGHTY YARDS! By a tight end!!" And Ludakit answered towards the crowd, "Verily, I say unto thee, unless thou art converted and become as Bulldogs stomping in Florida's endzone, thall shalt not enter the Field of Everbank."

Then the Beloved Disciple, whom, while unquestionably a Dawg, some regarded as a Demon who resided in a podunk town, next spake unto those around her. "Remember the years when we were supposed to lose, but instead beat the Gators down, spoiling their dreams of national glory? Remember "fourth and dumb" in 1976, and "LOL Gators #1" in 1985? We must harken back unto those years with the sacrifice of a pure and red velvet goat! I shall plan this event, and send invitations unto each of you inviting you to attend!"

DavetheDawg, being next moved, spake only seven words: "BELUE TO SCOTT. I WAS ACTUALLY THERE." And then he proceedeth to perform the Safety Dance as a demonstration of his '80's cred. And all in attendance cheered and laughed most heartily.

Spears appeared to be moved to speak next, but was overmuch distracted by a discussion he was having between his Roman oddsmaker and Samarian supermodel.

RedCrake, hailtogeorgia, and MaconDawg might have been moved by the spirit, but were laid heavy after consuming great quantities of what they insisted was "water." Grunts were heard from their direction regarding something about "spurs," "behinds," and "smoked butts," but no utterings were considered holy enough to be included in this official record.

NCT, therefore, spake at great length regarding the undue French influence upon the early 20th century Florida legislature, which caused quite a bit of confusion as to the naming of institutions of higher learning in places that were, ultimately, irrelevant until approximately 1990. He also expounded upon how the Franco-Catalan politics of the late 1950's ultimately led to Georgia winning the national championship in 1980.

And there were dwelling in Jacksonville Georgia Bulldogs, devout men and women, from every nation under heaven. And when this sound occurred, the multitude came together, and were confused, because everyone was drunk and had trouble paying attention for more than 10 seconds. Then they realized what they were hearing and were all amazed and marveled, saying to one another, "Dang, I remember those games. Those were the good ol' days, dangit. I hate Florida."

But T. Kyle King, standing up with the twelve, raised his voice and said to them, "People of Dawg Sports and all who dwell in Dawg Nation, let this be known to you, and heed my words. For these are not drunk, as you suppose, since it is only the third hour of the day. Ok, well, these are drunk, and you are too, and it's about dang time to get into the stadium. But know this: Thy hate might now burn for Florida, but Auburn is a bigger rival, and always will be."

And lo, the assembled crowds teemed with anger, and sought to crucify the Mayor, aiming to bring him to the luxury suite of Pontius Adams to obtain his legal consent. But then the Beloved Disciple reminded everyone that the game was about to begin, and that she would personally kick the tail of anyone who sought to physically harm the Mayor. Then those who heard it, being convicted by their conscience (and scared of getting beat up by a girl), went into the stadium one by one, beginning with the oldest even to the last. And the Beloved Disciple was left alone, and the Mayor standing in the midst. Then the Beloved Disciple raised herself up and saw no one but the Mayor. She said to him "Mr. Mayor, where are those accusers of yours? Has no one condemned you?" He said, "No one, ma'am."

And the Beloved Disciple said to him, "Neither do I condemn you; go into the stadium and speak of Auburn no more. Or, at least, until after the game."

Tomorrow: The Revelation According to Vineyarddawg.

Go Dawgs! Beat Florida!